


Daniel in the Den (Felled In The Night)

by sunsetmog



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Childhood Sexual Abuse, M/M, Moving On, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:50:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything he felt was trapped in his chest, clamouring to get out, desperate to tear itself out from underneath his skin.</p><p>or:</p><p>Aaron shows up on Robert's doorstep in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daniel in the Den (Felled In The Night)

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the verdict in Gordon's trial but pre-sentencing. Contains reference to childhood sexual abuse and self-harm. [Send me an ask](http://magicalrocketships.tumblr.com/ask) if you have any questions or if you need to know anything specific about the content. 
> 
> Title comes from the Bastille song of the same name, which seemed more than appropriate. This was going to be a Tumblr ficlet but because of the subject matter it's easier for people to avoid it on here. :)
> 
> Also, Adam seems like the kind of guy who'd secretly appreciate a pair of Snoopy pyjamas. I mean, wouldn't we all.

It was half past one in the morning and Aaron regretted ringing the doorbell the moment he pressed it. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to make his hands stop shaking, trying to hide the fact he was right on the fucking edge and he had no fucking idea how to make it stop. 

Half a minute passed. It seemed like longer. It always seemed like longer. 

Victoria opened the door in the end, Adam behind her, his Snoopy pyjama bottoms hanging low, t-shirt rucked up. He was still rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Victoria wrapping her dressing gown tighter around her. 

"Aaron," she said, brow furrowing. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Aaron couldn't say _nothing's wrong_. He couldn't say what was going on, either. Everything he felt was trapped in his chest, clamouring to get out, desperate to tear itself out from underneath his skin. He looked away, down the road, clenching his fists in his jacket. "Is Robert around?" he asked finally, and he knew his voice shook. He squared his jaw, daring them to say something, daring them to try and find a way in. He glanced at them, then away again, down towards his feet. He hadn't done the laces up very well on his trainers.

He felt like he was crumbling from the inside out, and he didn't know how to keep himself together.

"Aaron—" Vic reached for him, but he stepped back, out of her way. He couldn’t keep it together if she touched him. "He's in bed," she said finally. "Come in."

"Mate," Adam said, when Vic was half way up the stairs to go and get Robert. "What's happened? Is it Gordon?"

Aaron wanted to fold himself up, smaller and smaller and smaller until there was no space inside of him for any of what he was thinking, no room for any of it, no room for him. He shook his head. 

Adam had known him a long time. He stood next to him in the hall, hands by his sides. Aaron felt like he was literally holding himself together. He couldn't fucking breathe with it. 

"Do you want tea?" Adam asked finally. 

Aaron shrugged. He could hear Vic upstairs, then Robert appeared at the top of the stairs in a pair of faded black underpants, his hair sticking up on end. He was pulling a t-shirt on as he came downstairs, but Aaron was shaking and he couldn't fucking stop.

"Aaron. What's wrong? What's happened?" Robert reached for him, hand to Aaron's elbow, and he flinched, terrified, desperate. He just had to hold on a little bit longer, keep it together until they were alone.

"Can we?" Aaron asked, tilting his chin up, towards the stairs. Vic was standing on the landing. "I just—please." Aaron hated asking for anything. 

"Course," Robert said, and he waited a moment for Aaron to go first, but Aaron didn't. He followed Robert upstairs, not even meeting Vic's eyes as he passed her. 

Robert's room was in darkness, the light from the landing showing the covers all messed up on the bed. He switched on the light and Aaron closed the door. 

He took a breath, and held out his hand. He'd had the razor blade clenched in his fist. His palm was bleeding even as he kept holding it out for Robert to take. 

Robert's shoulders dropped. "Christ," he said softly, hand still, and he stared down at the razor blade for a moment until Aaron made a desperate, choked-down noise he couldn't hold in. "What have you been doing to yourself?"

Aaron shook his head. "Take it," he said. "Please. Please."

Robert had a box of tissues on the dressing table. He wrapped the razor in it and dropped it into the bin. "Have you hurt yourself?" he asked, and he was clearly trying to keep the urgency out of his voice. 

"I want to," Aaron said. His hand was bleeding. There was a cut on his upper arm that hadn't been there half an hour ago. "It hurts in here." He tapped his head. "It hurts, Robert."

"I know," Robert said. "I'm so sorry."

"Make it stop," Aaron begged, and then it was all tumbling out, tears and snot and Aaron's desperate, desperate wish to tear his skin to shreds if it might mean that he could make it stop, just for a minute, just for a breath, just for a bit. 

"Christ," Robert managed. "Aaron."

"I tried not to," Aaron told him, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. "It hurts."

Robert reached for him, and Aaron tilted forward into his arms, burying his face in Robert's neck. He smelled sleepy and familiar and safe and not like anything Aaron had been feeling half an hour ago. He tried to breathe. 

"I know it hurts," Robert told him, kissing the top of his head. He rubbed Aaron's shoulders. "Come on, sit down." He kept touching Aaron's shoulders. They'd said they'd wanted to take it slow but every bit of Aaron was screaming and Aaron wanted to crawl inside of him and find some quiet if only Robert would let him. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and Robert sat down next to him, his knee pressed up to Aaron's. His leg shook. 

"What happened?" Robert asked finally. He kept rubbing his hand over Aaron's back. "You were all right before."

Aaron shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Wanted it to be over and it's not."

"They found Gordon guilty. We're on our way."

"Maybe for you. Not for me. It's always going to be there in my head. Sometimes it's like it's screaming at me."

Robert touched his face, thumb to his cheek. "You deserve to be so happy," he said softly, repeating what he'd said earlier. "You've got your mum, and your family, and—and you've got me. You'll always have me. We're all going to be here. We'll find a way to stop it screaming. Make it quiet."

Aaron's hands shook. His palm was still bleeding. "He said I deserved it."

"No," Robert said, shaking his head. "Not for a second. Not for a single moment. Never, you hear me? You were a little boy."

"Maybe I deserve it now. I've done bad shit."

Robert made a soft, desperate sound in his throat. "Aaron—"

"Tell me I don't. Please."

Robert wrapped an arm around Aaron's shoulders. "You're a good person," he said. "You're the best person I've ever met in my life. You're the strongest person I know and you got through this, and you're so fucking brave and you don't even know it. We're all so proud of you and we're going to keep telling you so that you don't forget it for a second. And you didn't deserve a single moment of this. I swear."

Aaron hadn't even realised he was crying again, but Robert reached for a tissue, holding it out for him to take. Aaron scrubbed at his eyes as Victoria knocked at the door, two cups of tea in her hands. 

"Made some tea," she said, putting it down on the bedside table. "Do you want me to text Chas and tell her you're here?"

Aaron glanced at Robert, who nodded.

"You can stay if you want. I can stay downstairs on the sofa."

Aaron didn't answer that. "Will you text my mum?" he asked instead, and Vic said yes. 

"I've got some plasters downstairs too. I'll bring them up." She was staring at Aaron's hand. It was still bleeding. 

Aaron clenched his fist, looking away. 

"Thanks," Robert said. He touched Aaron's leg with the back of his hand. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

Vic came back with a couple of antiseptic wipes, a box of plasters – Snoopy patterned – a tube of Germoline, and a packet of ginger biscuits. "Me and Adam are going back to bed," she said. "Unless you need anything else."

Aaron shook his head. "Thanks," he said, but he couldn't meet her eyes. 

"Take the bin out with you, will you?" Robert asked carelessly, like it didn't matter, and Aaron didn't look up. 

She leaned in and kissed Aaron's forehead. "We love you," she said, "and you're always welcome."

He nodded again, the space where he was supposed to say something left empty as she reached down to pick up the bin with its razor wrapped up on top. His hand throbbed. 

"Night," she said, closing the door behind her, and from down the hall, Adam called it too. 

"I can stay downstairs," Robert said, after a moment. 

Aaron stared down at his palm, at the cut weeping blood. "I don't want to be alone," he said. He glanced at Robert, amending it slightly. "I want to be with you."

There was a pause before Robert reached for his hand, wrapping his hand around Aaron's wrist, flattening out Aaron's palm. "Let's get you cleaned up." He tore off the corner of the antiseptic wipe and unfolded it. It stung as he cleaned up Aaron's palm, and Aaron hissed in a wince. "Is this the only cut?"

"No," Aaron said. "I tried. I couldn't – I had to come here so I'd stop."

Robert nodded. He finished cleaning up Aaron's hand and picked one of the larger, square plasters out of the box. It had Woodstock on it on a red background. The cream was cool as he pressed it gently to Aaron's palm. It was so quiet everywhere, the village silent, Vic and Adam quiet down the hall. There was just the sound of Robert's breathing, of Aaron trying to keep himself under control, of Robert taking care of him. 

"Don't let me down," Aaron said, all of a sudden. "Please don't fucking let me down. I don't—I couldn't deal with it. I can't deal with it. I can't get you back again and then lose you."

Robert shook his head. "Never," he said. "You can rely on me. I'm not who I was before anymore."

"Robert—"

"I love you," Robert said. "I love you so much. I've watched you go through this and I want to be there for you. That's what I want. I'll be here as long as you want me to be."

"I'll push you away."

"I know. And I'll do stupid shit. But it doesn't change anything. I'm going to be here for you. I'm going to be the person you need me to be. I swear."

Aaron's eyes were wet again. Fuck, he was sick of crying. He nodded. He took his jacket off and his hoodie and underneath the blood had run down the inside of his arm in two rivulets. 

Robert let out a breath. 

Aaron didn't say sorry. He couldn't. He wished he could. "I'll do it again," he said instead, as Robert took another wipe and cleaned his arm. "I'll try and I'll try but I still keep messing up and giving in."

"Do what you did tonight," Robert said. He was gentle with him, cleaning up the blood. Aaron was scarred inside and out, a mess from top to bottom. Letting someone see that – letting Robert in – was terrifying. "Tell us. Let us help."

"It's not as easy as all that."

"I know. But you're the strongest person I know, and you deserve to be the happiest. You will be."

The plaster this time had Snoopy flopped out on top of his kennel. Robert stood up and went over to the drawers, coming back with a t-shirt. He offered a pair of pyjama bottoms as well, but Aaron shook his head. 

He got undressed in silence, until he was in his pants and Robert's t-shirt and Robert was opening the packet of biscuits. They sat in Robert's bed together, Aaron holding his cup of tea in his undamaged hand, and Robert touched the back of his hand to the back of Aaron's. 

"I mean it," he said softly. "Whatever you need. You've got me."

Aaron nodded. "I know," he said finally. His heart rate was slowing down. His hands were still.

He took a breath, then another one, then another, Robert's knee pressed to his under the covers, until the tea was all gone and Robert leaned over him to turn the light off.

Robert was still there in the morning, hand to Aaron's hip, and for the first time in a long time, Aaron felt like he might be safe.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://magicalrocketships.tumblr.com/tagged/Emmerdale).


End file.
